The Long Ride Home

by Kari Lynn Dell

  The wanting hit hard, slamming into David like an avalanche, leaving his body bruised and aching. He should be there with her. Holding her. Her head on his shoulder and her body curled against his as they planned the month he’d spend with Kylan. Could it have happened if he hadn’t been so furious?

  And so scared.

  Oh, shit. David grabbed hold of the steering wheel, his heart beating in huge, lunging gulps, like a panicked horse bolting through the brush. Dear God. What had he done?

  It wasn’t supposed to happen this way again. He’d sworn he’d take better care, ease into a relationship one cautious step at a time. But here he was, over his head before he even knew he’d taken the plunge. In three short days, Mary had weaseled through all of his defenses with her vulnerable eyes and warrior’s soul. And now he was at her mercy.

  Assuming she had any to offer. After the things he’d said, the way he’d said them, how could she forgive him? What could he possibly say to persuade her?

  Panic blanked his mind, erasing all the words. He sucked in air, ordered his lungs to relax, drawing on every ounce of his competitive discipline, the mantras he used to clear his racing thoughts when the chips were down and a championship on the line.

  Relax. Take your time. Focus on the now.

  Now being the hours until nine o’clock tomorrow morning. He had plenty of them. Not much chance he’d sleep. His hands shook as he put the pickup in reverse, eased onto the road and swung around toward town. As he hit fourth gear, his phone buzzed with an incoming text and he jerked so hard the pickup swerved. He straightened it out and then took a quick look at the phone.

  Galen.

  David whipped over to the shoulder of the road to stop and read the message.

  “I see you.”

  David punched in his reply, his big thumbs clumsy on the keys. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s been better.”

  David cringed, tapped his response one fumbling letter at a time. “Tell her she’s not a horrible person. I might be though.”

  The pause was so long, David’s muscles started to twitch with anxiety. Finally, his phone beeped again.

  “Yeah. You’ve been better too. Maybe tomorrow’ll be better for both of you.”

  While David squinted at the words, trying to guess whether they were encouragement or reprimand, the phone buzzed again.

  “I hung your coat on Frosty’s stall. Don’t forget it in the morning.”

  David looked over his shoulder, saw the barn light blink out. A shadow ambled across the yard toward the tipi. Conversation over.

  David stared at the evening star, low and bright as an incoming jetliner. He imagined those old geezers up there on their porch, sipping whiskey straight from the bottle while they contemplated the mess they’d landed him in. And laughed their asses off.

  He drove back to the fairgrounds, parked beside his trailer and didn’t remember until he was stepping inside that he’d forgotten to fuel up the pickup. Oh, well. Chances were he’d be up plenty early in the morning.

  At the sound of the door clicking shut, Kylan lifted his head from the pillow, blinking sleepily. “Was Galen and Cissy there?”

  So much for fooling the kid. “Yeah. Guess I should’ve known Mary would call them.”

  “That’s what she does.”

  “How’d you know I went to check on her?”

  Kylan yawned, rolled over and burrowed into his pillow. “That’s what you do.”

  David hesitated, torn between asking for help and keeping his feelings safely under wrap. “So, um, how’s Mary at holding a grudge?”

  “Better than you are at roping.”

  In other words, a pro.

  David blew out a defeated breath. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  By seven thirty the next morning, David had jogged, stretched and then driven down to the Town Pump to fuel up with diesel, coffee and sausage and egg biscuits. He’d also cleaned out the back of the horse trailer, filled the water tanks, showered, shaved and ironed all of his shirts. When he started in dusting the cupboards, Kylan tossed his phone aside with an exaggerated sigh.

  “What are we waitin’ for?”

  David lifted a coffee mug and swiped a paper towel over the shelf. “I told Mary I’d pick you up at nine.”

  “Uh…in case you haven’t noticed? I’m already here.”

  “Well, yeah, but…”

  “What? You’re afraid we might wake her?”

  Of course not. If he knew Mary at all, she hadn’t slept any more than he had. So why was he stalling?

  Because facing Mary scared the crap out of him. And until she told him otherwise, he still had hope.

  “Fine,” he said, slamming the cupboard. “Load up. Let’s go.”

  Kylan was a lot less nonchalant when they pulled onto the highway. He fidgeted in his seat, flipping his phone over and over in his hands as they covered the short distance to Mary’s place. Then he sucked in a breath. “Oh, shit.”

  David looked where Kylan was looking and seconded the sentiment. Galen’s pickup was still parked next to Mary’s. JoJo’s police car was parked right behind it.

  David’s foot came off the accelerator and they slowed abruptly. Why hadn’t it occurred to him that Mary might take legal action to block their departure? All she had to do was contest the validity of the contract Kylan had signed. Claim undue influence, or whatever it was called. Geezus. The woman really did not know how to give up. While David was wracking his brain for a way to get back in her good graces and drowning in guilt for being so mean, she was assembling the troops.

  If he had a lick of sense, he’d be furious.

  “What’re you smilin’ about?” Kylan demanded.

  “Mary.” David tried and failed to rub the grin off his face. “She’s a piece of work.”

  “She’s fixin’ to kick your ass,” Kylan said.

  Yeah. That too.

  When they turned into the driveway, all four of the people sitting on the deck stood—Mary, Galen, JoJo and a woman who must be Cissy. David considered circling around and driving right back out onto the highway, but it wasn’t like he could outrun a cop car, so he pulled up by the house and killed the engine.

  While David and Kylan got out of the pickup, the quartet filed down from the deck, JoJo first, then Galen, and then the two women, side-by-side. David did a double take. Knowing Galen, hearing Mary’s stories, he’d mentally painted Cissy as wise and maternal, well-padded from the birth of four children. A warm, comfortable woman.

  Cissy Latray was not soft. And other than the arm she had looped around Mary’s waist, she didn’t look particularly maternal. Her streaky dark hair was clipped into short, straight layers, framing a face that could’ve been in the movies, with the high cheekbones and dramatic, arched eyebrows of Hollywood’s version of an Indian princess. Her jeans were slung low on narrow hips, her legs long enough to make snug denim look good. Even at this hour, she was fully accessorized with silver jewelry that matched both her belt and the glint in her eye that said, “Go ahead. Try to screw with me or mine.”

  Not a chance. David held up, letting Kylan move ahead of him toward the posse. The kid shot a panicked look over his shoulder.

  “Got your back,” David said.

  “Chickenshit,” Kylan muttered.

  They lined up like a small regiment, Galen and JoJo peeling off to station themselves at either side of the sidewalk, flanking Mary and Cissy. David tried to read their faces, but JoJo had his tough cop scowl on and Galen, as usual, wasn’t giving anything away. If they were trying to put the fear of God in David, it was a waste of time. Mary had the corner on that market.

  His first good look at her was a punch in the gut. She looked…great. A little tired maybe, but she’d taken the time to fix her hair and do her makeup. Her turquoise hoodie made her eyes glow gre
ener than usual, and it was unzipped just far enough to show a snug white tank top. David went a little dizzy wondering if she wore anything underneath.

  He could stare all he wanted. Her attention was focused entirely on Kylan.

  She stepped away from the others to meet the kid, but instead of the determination David had expected, her expression was soft, hesitant. Cissy kept a supportive hand on her shoulder. He could see why. Mary seemed to sway in the breeze, feather light, as if she’d lost that iron will.

  David’s heart clenched. He’d done that. Made her feel like less when she was so much more than he’d ever been.

  “You okay?” Kylan asked her.

  “Yeah.” She reached up, smoothed back a chunk of hair that stuck straight out over his ear. “I’m sorry, Kylan.”

  His shoulders slumped. “Does that mean I can’t go?”

  “It’s not for me to say.” She pressed her palm over his heart, her eyes shimmering. “You’re all grown up. I don’t know how I missed it. Or when I crossed the line from looking out for you to trying to live your life.”

  Kylan put his hand over hers. “It wasn’t that bad.”

  “Yes, it was. I had no right making your decisions for you.”

  Kylan shrugged. “I dunno. I make some pretty stupid ones.”

  She gave a shaky laugh. “Don’t we all? But no matter the reasons, what I was doing with Muddy was wrong. Thank you for setting me straight.”

  “Whatever.” He tilted his head, eyeing her like he suspected there was a catch. “You aren’t even mad ’cause I signed that paper without asking you first?”

  She scrunched up her face. “I really want to be, but then I’d be a total hypocrite since Cissy reminded me that when I was your age, I enlisted in the Army without telling her and Galen.”

  “Seriously?” Kylan asked.

  “Seriously,” Cissy said, narrowing her eyes. “I wanted to kill her, but I was too damn worried someone was gonna beat me to it.”

  Mary gave a sheepish shrug. “I guess running off to a few rodeos is pretty mild by comparison. So, no, I’m not gonna try to stop you. I’m not even gonna call and text five times a day to check on you. But I do expect to hear from you at least a couple times a week, so I know where you are.”

  Kylan scooped her into a bear hug, hoisting her off her feet. “You’re the best. Don’t let nobody tell you different.”

  David had to swallow hard as she hugged Kylan back. When he set her down, she pushed him out to arm’s length, wrinkling her nose. “I’m not letting you go smelling like that. You need a shower. I washed all your clothes and Cissy ironed your shirts. Don’t forget, you’ve got to pack everything you need for nationals since you won’t be coming home first.”

  Kylan nudged her shoulder with his fist. “Din’t take you long to start bossin’ me again.”

  “Smart ass.” She swatted his arm and gave him a shove. “Go on. You’ve got a long drive today.”

  Kylan didn’t budge. “If you wasn’t gonna try to stop us, how come JoJo’s here?”

  “Just wanted to say good luck at nationals. And behave while you’re gone.” JoJo fired a warning scowl at David. “I don’t wanna have to drive halfway across the country to bail you out of trouble.”

  But he would. They all would. They might not be the kind of family you saw in picture books, the kind David had grown up with, but they were solid.

  JoJo hooked his thumb in his belt. “If you don’t need me, I’ll get back to work.”

  “Maybe you’ll get lucky and find someone who needs shootin’,” Galen said. “I hear tourists are in season.”

  Cissy snorted a laugh. JoJo ignored both of them and sauntered to his car. They all watched him bump and sway down the driveway, then Mary brushed her hands together and turned toward the house, having yet to acknowledge David’s existence. “Well, we’d better get cracking.”

  “Wait,” Kylan said, grabbing her arm. “David needs to talk to you.”

  Mary froze for a beat. Then she slowly turned around and all of a sudden everybody was looking at David. His mind blanked and he couldn’t recall a single word of any of the dozen or so speeches he’d memorized in the cold night hours.

  “I, uh…” He shot a desperate look at Kylan, who jacked up his eyebrows as if to say well?

  Cissy had pretty much the same expression on her face, except a lot less encouraging. Galen folded his arms and waited, content to be an onlooker.

  Mary fixed her gaze on a point about a foot below David’s chin. “I thought we pretty much covered everything yesterday.”

  “Uh, not really. Could we, um…” David jerked a thumb toward the driveway and stepped back a couple of paces, indicating he’d like some privacy.

  Nobody took the hint, including Mary, who remained rooted in place.

  Kylan gave her a gentle push. “Go talk to him, else I’ll have to put up with his moping all day.”

  “Please,” David added.

  Mary looked at Cissy, who considered and then nodded. “Might as well clear the air.”

  David backed up until his butt bumped against the front of Galen’s pickup. Mary followed, dragging her feet and focusing her eyes anywhere but on his face. She stopped three paces away, staring so hard at his left shirt pocket that David checked to make sure he hadn’t dribbled coffee on it.

  “I have to apologize…” he began.

  “No, you don’t,” Mary cut in. “You were right. I was wrong. Enough said.”

  “But we need to—”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t interfere between you and Kylan.”

  David took a breath, tried again. “You and I…I wanted to tell you—”

  “No explanation necessary,” she said, settling her gaze on his left elbow. “Ships passing in the night, etcetera, etcetera. So we can just forget—”

  “Would you mind if I pick my own words?” David burst out in frustration.

  Mary’s cheeks flushed and her gaze dropped to the toes of David’s boots. “Sorry. I have a bad habit of—”

  “Telling other people what they think,” David said, giving her a dose of her own medicine. “I noticed. But since I was awake most of the night practicing this speech, I’d like to go ahead and give it.”

  “Okay. Shoot.” Mary shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, pulling it tight across her chest and making his mind skitter off track for a second.

  “Thank you.” Except now the words seemed to be turned sideways and he was having trouble forcing them out. He cleared his throat and tried harder, starting with the easy part. “I was really mad yesterday, and I said things I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

  She opened her mouth, but he held up a hand and she closed it again.

  “You know how you freaked out the first time I took Kylan to Rusty’s? Well, this is like that.” He dragged in air, wishing she’d look at him but sort of glad she didn’t because he might lose his nerve. “Turns out I have a few hot buttons of my own, and you punched them all. I was looking for an excuse to put space between us. You gave it to me. But there’s no excuse for the things I said.”

  Her eyes slowly came up to meet his, sharp and wary as a fox fearing a trap. He wanted to press his lips to her forehead, smooth away the crease there, but he hadn’t earned that right yet.

  “I didn’t want to get involved,” he said. “I didn’t even want a date. But there you were, and I couldn’t stay away.”

  “You’re leaving now,” she said stiffly. “Problem solved.”

  The words stabbed into him, sharp little arrows of indifference that left him bleeding. He lowered his voice another notch to disguise the pain. “I’ve given you plenty of reason to hate the sight of me. But Kylan and I…we’re friends. I hope we stay friends. And that means I’m gonna be coming back here now and then, and you and I will see each other, and I’ll prob
ably act like an idiot, so you should at least know why.”

  She gave her head a quick, confused shake. “I have no idea what you’re trying to say.”

  “I’m saying you matter to me. You’re under my skin.” He held out his hands, palms up, as if she could see the ache, the need. “I’m saying I’ve only known you three days and already I can’t have a thought without wanting to share it with you.”

  The cold resolve in her eyes wavered, then hardened. She waved a hand toward the tipi, the spot where he’d said all those horrible things. “But yesterday—”

  “I said things that were flat-out wrong, and I knew it.” He gestured toward the tipi, as she had. “What happened between us had nothing to do with Kylan or Muddy or anything but you and me. I wasn’t ready for you to get so close so fast. I panicked. Just a stupid, scared idiot who thought it would be easier to hurt you and push you away than take the chance of being a fool again.”

  He risked reaching out, across the gulf that separated them, to touch her cheek. She went utterly still beneath his hand. He cleared away the tightness in his throat, his heart doing that lunge and gulp thing again.

  “You have to understand, Mary…I don’t seem to know how to fall in love slow and easy. For me, it’s like stepping off a cliff. All or nothing. No safety net.”

  She stared at him for a full count of five, quivering as if her body was straining to run. Toward him or away? Then hot color swept into her face. She slapped his hand away, stamping her foot. “Why are you saying this stuff?”

  “Uh…because it’s true?”

  “Bull!” She rolled her eyes, irritated. “I don’t know if this is some bizarre way of trying to smooth things over because of Kylan, or if you have an overdeveloped sense of guilt, but this is too damn much.”

  “It’s not guilt!”

  “Then what is it?” she demanded.

  He threw up his hands, let them fall. “Insanity, apparently. You drive me crazy in every sense of the word, and I’d rather be crazy with you than without. I’m trying to ask you to give me another chance.”